


we’re miles apart (but not at heart)

by waved



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Non-Linear Narrative, Reincarnation But Not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 15:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waved/pseuds/waved
Summary: It goes like this: Luna sees a flash of red, they make endless eye contact, and Ginny is always the one who looks away.So it goes. C’est la vie. Luna tells herself everything she knows to get through it.





	we’re miles apart (but not at heart)

**Author's Note:**

> first published hp fanfic yay

Luna is walking down the Boulevard de Sébastopol when it happens – a flash of red, a stab in her heart, flickers of recognition.

She knows this.

_“Ginny,”_ she says, and the girl turns in the middle of the street, the green light casting her in a glow. The moment lasts a split second where they meet eyes and Luna can’t breathe, can’t even say anything. Then it’s over.

The red of the girl’s hair turns to the red of her blood.

 

* * *

 

Luna replays that moment again, but this time she is in Greece, staring up at the Parthenon. A bump against her arm is what shakes her, forces her to look away, and Ginny is there, as usual. She hesitates before she says anything, terrified of her death as had happened the last time she called her name.

As Ginny walks away, she’s glad she didn’t.

She’s holding hands with a dark haired girl that Luna vaguely recognizes, and there’s a painful pull in her gut.

 

* * *

 

It goes like this: Luna sees a flash of red, they make endless eye contact, and Ginny is always the one who looks away.

So it goes. C’est la vie. Luna tells herself everything she knows to get through it.

 

* * *

 

Luna is in Draco’s apartment, curled near his feet on his couch. He’s making soft noises, under his breath, almost like humming, and she is back in Britain again, closer to London than Scotland. This is what feels familiar to her. No matter how many fuck-ups and resets and twists, she finds herself home sometimes. She and Draco find each other in this time. They know. He has it too. In this life, they are cousins, and Luna has no father.

Unfortunately, she has traded her wand for a phone. There is no magic in this world.

Draco has his own phone in his hand, trembling as he answers a call, as his fingers tend to do. Luna is more than happy to pet his ankle, run sore finger pads and chewed nails over vegan leather oxfords. She remembers the dragon leather ones he wore, but – at least she is considered insane. It’s easier to explain her slipups when she speaks of magic.

“Harry,” Draco says, and he smiles. A voice crackles on the other end, and Luna recognizes it.

“Draco,” Harry Potter says, and Hermione says her greetings in the background.

“Luna’s with me,” Draco responds, nudging her with his foot. She makes an affirmative noise and a new voice pipes up.

“Yo! Draco talks about you a lot, nice to talk to you!” Ginny’s voice rings, bells in Luna’s ears, and she takes the phone straight from Draco’s hands and hangs it up.

 

* * *

 

Luna switches after that, a perfect escape, as she does not want to face Draco’s questioning and pity. She wakes in another woman’s arms and cries.

 

* * *

 

“I dreamt of kissing you,” Luna says to Ginny across their drinks, and the girl only laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners, and she nearly tips their cups off the table as she leans in to kiss her.

 

* * *

 

Luna is alone. So it goes. C’est la vie. Hail Mary, full of grace.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Luna prays. She kneels by her bedside, or wears a cross down with her thumb, or mutters Latin while she twists rings with stones in her pockets. Her faith manifests itself in magic – in mystery.

Her mother is alive in this one. She’s sitting across from her but she can’t remember her name. Her face is blurry from years and lifetimes of never having her. They sit with one another, drinking tea, with one of her mother’s wrinkled, calloused hands warm and comforting on her shoulder.

She’s asking her about her girlfriend, her _fiancée_ , and wonders when she’ll get to meet her.

“Probably never,” Luna says cheerily. She doesn’t even know whom she is supposedly marrying.

 

* * *

 

Luna finds herself back in her old world. The one she came from, the one where there is magic and love and war. Her hands are shackled to the wall behind her, and it’s dark. The smell clogs her nose. She’s in Draco’s dungeon. She thought she would never be back in this situation, the utter feeling of _loneliness_ , no matter how much conversation Ollivander made. She felt stuffed, claustrophobic, unable to catch her breath.

Through the dust motes, she sees light at the top of the stairs.

Like an angel, Draco comes down the steps, looking over his shoulder.

“Luna,” he says when he gets to her, crouched as if he’s trying to disappear within himself. “I’m sorry this is happening again. Truly. I didn’t know.” He unlocks her bonds and places a tray of food beside her before skittering back up the stairs – just as the last time he had done this. It’s a carbon copy of her last life, she thinks.

Of course, however, it isn’t.

She spends hours in the dungeon, head lolling as she attempts to sleep, and above her, she hears chaos – she _senses_ it, feels her insides turn to ice, and before long, the door to the dungeon opens again, but it is no longer a fair-haired angel in the doorway.

She’s still ethereal, but she is _fire_ , and Luna almost cries at the sight of her.

Ginny barrels down the stairs, Neville behind her. Ginny’s already crying, it seems, if her red eyes mean anything, and she pulls Luna into a backbreaking hug that leaves them both sobbing. Neville is teary-eyed, too, but with the Sword of Gryffindor in his hands, he can’t join in – he’s still eying the staircase anxiously, waiting for a silhouette.

Ginny grabs Luna’s hand, lacing their fingers so tight they couldn’t possibly shake, and Luna has half a mind to take Ollivander’s hand before they go back up into the foyer. Around them are bodies. Only a few are dead – misaimed Killing Curses, Luna thinks, and in the corner stands Draco, fear in his eyes, wand raised.

“Draco!” Luna calls after him. “Come with us, _please_!” Ginny squeezes her hand, but it isn’t comforting; it is more in disbelief, a wondering of what the hell Luna is doing.

They are making their way out the door, a pile of people all supporting each other’s weight, when Draco joins them, puts his hand on top of Luna’s, and Disapparates.

They fall onto sand, hard.

“What the hell have you _done_?” Ginny shrieks, untangling her hand from Luna’s so she can slap Draco across the face. “You fucking _Death Eater_ , you _monster_ , where have you—”

Luna kisses her to shut her up. It’s effective, but it leaves Ginny slightly cross-eyed.

“He’s a friend,” Luna says softly. “An ally. I’ve known him, Gin, for forever. I know him.”

Ginny looks at her with distrust and turns her gaze to Draco, where he is cupping his face gingerly, staring holes into the ground.

“I took us to a Muggle beach,” he says, voice flat. “I went here once. Over the summer, with Pans and—” He breaks off. Luna knows whom he went with – Pansy, herself, and Harry, but Draco can’t _say_ that, as it happened lifetimes ago and Ginny would never believe him. “It’s secluded. We can move from here, if you would like, but it was the first place that came to my mind.”

“You’ve been to a _Muggle_ beach?” Ginny asks with disbelief. “With _Parkinson_? What the _fuck_.” She sits back into the sand with her head between her knees, bemoaning her existence. Neville looks shell-shocked, and that is when Luna sees the scar covering his forehead, trailing down the bridge of his nose and meandering onto his cheek. He is the Chosen One. That is why he is here.

Luna can’t help but let a few tears trickle down her cheeks.

Draco still looks like he can’t believe what’s happening.

He gazes up at Luna, grabs her wrist, and his eyes are red-rimmed. “I murdered Aunt Bellatrix,” he says, quietly, as if in hopes that only Luna will hear. Ginny does. Neville does. They all know, now. “I don’t – I never liked her. I despised her, truly, but I – I just—” He dissolves into dry gasps, but he doesn’t cry. “I _killed_ her. Oh God, Luna.”

Neville, Sword of Gryffindor cast off into the sand, claps an arm on Draco’s shoulder and pulls him into a desperate-looking hug. Draco just shakes in his hold.

Luna collapses into Ginny’s arms and closes her eyes, unable to stand Draco, cocksure and steady, fall apart just inches away from her.

 

* * *

 

When Luna comes to herself again, she is in the same world, and she is pressed against Ginny, the taller girl pushing herself into Luna’s back. They’re in bed together, cheap-hotel smelling sheets with creaking bedsprings. Ginny’s hands are hard on Luna’s hips, her breathing warm on her neck, and Luna knows she is awake.

“Gin,” she whispers into the silence, and her breath turns into a gasp when Ginny kisses her collar. Her hands touch the inside of her bare thigh.

“Please tell me you don’t want this,” Ginny says, watery in the crook of Luna’s neck.

“I do,” Luna says, and it’s the only thing that falls from her mouth as Ginny’s hand searches higher. “I do, I do, I _do_.”

 

* * *

 

Luna wants so desperately somewhere she can stay, but – it’s not her. She is a wanderer, self-proclaimed, and she will wander the skies until her last breath.

 

* * *

 

In some universes, Draco doesn’t recognize her. It clogs her stomach with fear – maybe he settled, maybe he found a way to _stop_ – but the next time comes around, and he is hers. He knows her and they are friends again.

 

* * *

 

Luna likes holding Ginny’s hand. It’s warm, if calloused, and balances out her own clammy fingers.

“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” Ginny says, and Luna can only look at the sky and smile.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment/kudos/leave virgin sacrifices thank you


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